


Stay

by Peanut_McNut



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 10x03 coda, Angst, Coda, Episode: s10e03 Soul Survivor, Hoping I got some of the feels out so I can stop word vomitting about it on Tumblr, I guess but it's pretty clear these two are completely in love with each other so, M/M, Pre-Slash, post-10x03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-23
Updated: 2014-10-23
Packaged: 2018-02-22 06:33:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2498105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peanut_McNut/pseuds/Peanut_McNut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel leaves, but Dean has never asked him to stay, has he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay

**Author's Note:**

> There are just so many feels from this episode and writing this is my attempt at recovery.

_“And when humans want something really, really bad… We lie.”_  
  
Castiel lies when he tells Dean he looks terrible. It’s not a total lie. To anyone else Dean would look awful, but to Castiel, he’s the greatest sight he’s ever seen. It wasn’t the green of his eyes penetrating the darkness when the sanctified blood finally drove the demon back. It was the creases at the corners of Dean’s eyes that drew Castiel’s attention. The openness in his face. The little smile. The joking manner when he said, “You look worried, fellas.” He’s Dean again, and no matter how tired or raw he looks, that simple fact makes him a wonder in Castiel’s eyes. He lies to keep the jovial manner Dean had set when he came back to him and Sam. To help put him at ease. To give him a sense of control.  
  
When Castiel lies about there being a female waiting for him out in his car, however, it’s for different reasons. The words are out of his mouth before he can think about what he’s saying. Once he and Sam had restrained Dean back in the dungeon, Castiel had let Hannah know that he wasn’t sure how long this would take. That he was staying until the demon was dwelt with one way or another. Right now, Hannah is off looking for leads on more rogue angels, with plans to meet back up with Castiel once his business concludes here. She wasn’t happy about it, but she left without complaint.  
  
The pleasure Castiel gets from seeing the shock and hurt flash across Dean’s face catches him off guard. It’s only a moment. Dean recovers quick as he always does. Castiel is aware of some of the things Dean had done with Crowley. Sam has had a hard time accepting that any of the things Dean has done while possessed are in any way part of the Dean they know. Castiel holds no such illusions. All those things. Everything Dean said and did are inside him, hiding in the sore spots and open wounds Dean refuses to acknowledge. Is that all of Dean? Of course not. The Mark and the demon feed on the worst of him. Castiel fears they might still be doing so.    
  
So why does Castiel lie? Why does he take pleasure in causing the man he has given so much up for pain? It’s because the worst lie Castiel has told today isn’t any of the ones he tells Dean. It’s the one he’s telling himself. The part of him that enjoys and then feels guilty about relishing in Dean’s displeasure is the same part he can’t seem to get rid of. It’s the part that hurt so much when Castiel had thought Dean was dead. The part that suffered for months when he learned Dean was out there, running from him and Sam. The part that nearly shattered when Sam told him Dean was a demon.  
  
It’s part of Castiel that is no longer reachable by the influence of angelic grace or divine intervention. A part of him that he can’t irradiate any more than anyone else can. The humanity that’s growing inside Castiel is something he can deny all he likes, but it’s still there. Castiel’s fading grace and inevitable death is all that keeps him from being revealed as the fraud he fears he is. He can help Hannah attempt to convince the remaining rogue angels that returning to Heaven is the best course of action. That it’s their duty. But he’d be lying if he said he wouldn’t hesitate in his own choice. For all he understands Dean’s want to hide from the worst the spectrum of human emotion has to offer, as a being who lived most of his existence without it, Castiel can say that the good far outweighs the bad. That is, if he’s being honest.  
  
But he’s not. Instead he hides behind his duty. The duty that was ingrained in him when he was brought into existence. He’s still draping himself in the flag of Heaven, as Metatron had put it, all to hide from the truth. Because the truth is, if Dean asked, Castiel would stay. He would live his last days with Dean and Sam here in the Bunker, helping however he can. He wouldn’t leave Dean’s side until death forced his hand.  
  
Dean doesn’t ask, and Castiel leaves the room after reassuring Dean that he and Sam will find some way past this, as they always do. It’s a truth Castiel believes in, whether Dean can manage that same faith right now or not. Sam returns with Dean’s burger and fries, even bringing some for Castiel. As promised, Sam gets inordinately drunk, Castiel watching over him and listening to him vent everything Sam has kept pent up while white knuckling his way through his crusade to find his brother. When Sam passes out at one of the tables in the Bunker’s library, Castiel helps him to his room, closing Sam’s door behind him once he gets him settled in.  
  
Castiel should leave. His work here is finished and there’s much to be done elsewhere. Heaven is counting on him. He has responsibilities that he must see to, so long as he is able to complete them. Instead, Castiel finds himself outside Dean’s bedroom door. He can hear Dean shifting around in his sleep. Castiel leans against the cool white walls of the Bunker, sliding down until he’s sitting. He draws his knees up, letting his head fall back against the wall as he listens to Dean’s even breathing through the grating at the bottom of his door.  
  
Because the truth is, even though Dean didn’t ask it of him, Castiel will stay. Tonight he’ll be here, watching over both of the Winchesters. And whatever days he has left… Even if he’s not here physically, the truth is this is where his priorities lie. This is where his thoughts drift to and where his heart lives. Here in these rooms and these halls and with the man lying just beyond the door. So close, but always just out of his reach.  
  
***  
  
 _“It sounds so simple when you say it like that. Where were you when I needed to hear it?”_  
  
Those words drift to Dean from what feels like a lifetime ago as he listens to Castiel tell him about his fading grace and the woman in his car. They cut through the buzz of his jumbled thoughts. Castiel had been reacting to Dean yelling at him for working with Crowley to open Purgatory. He told Castiel that we work through our crap ourselves we don’t run off to the nearest devil and make another deal. Has Dean ever fell off that high horse and hit a few house sized boulders on the way down since then.  
  
Up has been down and down has been sideways since Dean retook the reigns earlier tonight, but this is familiar to him. Castiel is here, standing right in front of him. Reassuring him. Making things better by just being in the room with him. Allowing Dean to breathe. How many times, before the Mark, did Dean want him here and couldn’t have him? Wars in Heaven, lying angels, or bad blood between the two of them keeping Castiel away from them. Away from Dean. He’s right here. Dean can tell him anything. Tell him everything.  
  
“I’m glad you’re here, man,” Dean hears himself saying.  
  
Or not. It’s a cop-out. It’s the same every time. Dean can’t say the words. He can’t get them out of his throat, past his tongue. He chokes on them. Swallowing them down. Saving them for later. But there is no later is there? There’s a woman in a car and grace slowly fading away. Dean can see it in Castiel’s eyes, in his whole being. He wants Dean to say something. Anything. To call him back. To stop him from walking away. To keep him. To hold him here like Dean has always wanted to, but has always been to afraid to attempt.  
  
“Hey, maybe you should um, take some time before you get back to work. Allow yourself to heal. It’s uh, I don’t know, the timing might be right…”  
  
Castiel pauses, looking down and away from Dean. This is his chance. The timing is right and Dean should say something. He needs to tell Castiel to put off whatever he’s chasing after. That he needs the break every bit as much as Dean and Sam do. He needs to ask Castiel be here with them. With Dean. If they just had some time, maybe…  
  
“…Heaven and Hell they seem reasonably back in order. It’s quiet out there.”  
  
If it’s quiet out there, inside the four walls of Dean’s bedroom, he feels like he’s drowning in the silence. He’s lost in the empty spaces left as the door clicks into place behind Castiel. Maybe Dean can never have him. You can’t have something you don’t ask for. Something you’re too scared to even try to hold onto. That’s another thing Dean finds himself almost missing. The blank slate. The ability to just _take_.  
  
The demon took what he wanted, good or bad. He didn’t care how it affected him or other people. Dean shudders to think what the demon would have done had he met a weakened Castiel. One that wasn’t hopped up on more stolen grace. One that couldn’t restrain him. Because the dark corners of Dean’s soul were amplified while he was possessed by whatever’s inside him. It fed on his darkest secrets and deepest fears. Castiel is one of them. The demon would have took Castiel, that’s for damn sure. What he would have done once he had the angel…  
  
Dean doesn’t get to dwell on it. Sam returns, bearing food and distraction. They talk while Dean eats. It’s normal. Familiar. They have a long way to go to get back. So much has been said and left unsaid between him and Sam, but It helps settle Dean. It gives him a level of normal to start building from. He crashes once Sam leaves, exhausted from their ordeal. He’s restless while he sleeps, his dreams filled with the shadows of wings and smears of blood. Of a deep voice whispering to him across the distance…  
  
 _I’m here. I’m right here. I’ll stay._


End file.
